Draconian

The town of Draco had not always been as it was now. There had been a time when Draconian, their beloved prince and last remaining royal in the Draco family line, had invoked passionate love in the hearts of the people, I thought as I sat against the boarding house window watching the distant castle, with its steep mossy towers and gargoyle covered arches, through the rain. It had been only a year ago when my father, Duke of Kensington, and I had arrived. My father was requested to deliver a message to Draconian’s army that was camped on the border to watch the warmongering nations of the west. He agreed and within a week I was left with Draconian. I stayed with him waiting for my father to return and spending most of my free time with my new companion. He was humorous, pleasant, and slightly mysterious.
“Do you like to read,” he asked me one evening while I watched him take a small black book from a high shelf in the library. When I went to look at it he hastily hid it under his cloak and smiled, his blue eyes glinting kindly.
“Yes, I do,” I said, bemused by his behavior. The longer I was there, the more I looked forward to spending my every waking moment with Draconian. Half a year after being there, we were engaged.
Soon after, he became quiet and withdrawn. What was causing him misery? I begged and pleaded but he would not say. I awoke late one night and saw a light in Draconian’s tower, across the courtyard from my room, and went to investigate. The stained glass windows cast ruby shadows on the walls of the large hallways as I crept past glinting knights and ornamental tapestries. I reached a great wooden door that was half open. The room was pitch black, except for a small stream of moonlight coming from an opening in the thick curtains. From the window I saw my room three stories down, across the garden. Even in the moonlight, the roses shone pure and strong. The door groaned and I jumped and looked around. On the far end of the room there was a stairwell. Halfway up the spiraling stairs the light from the tower hit the outer wall above me so suddenly that I slipped and fell, flipping and tumbling to the darkness at the bottom. I lay there, terrified. I called out, “Draconian!” It took so long to hear his footsteps racing down to me that I was afraid that he would not come. Finally, he stepped out of the darkness into the moonlight and consolingly brought me back to my room. Then, he told me. News had reached him that my father was dead. There was also no word from his army; he believed my father’s message had been intercepted and his plans ruined.
I fell into depression. In my misery I seldom gave thought to what Draconian was doing in his free time. What did not escape my notice, however, was how the life and color seemed to drain further and further from the place every day. The castle was barely recognizable as its former glory; its’ walls crumbled in some places and the gardens went unattended. The roses grew across the courtyard and up the walls, their thorns sticking out vividly. More and more servants and maids failed to return with each passing day. Even the paint on the ceiling look faded and the marble on the ramparts began to crack. This was irrelevant to Draconian, who was seldom seen about the castle, choosing instead to spend his time brooding in the library.
It was late winter when it first began. The frosty air tinged my skin as I stood in the middle of the night and pulled my cloak around me. Was it a dream or was it real? Darkness pressed in around me but I ignored it; Draconian called to me. He needed me; I was the key to what he was trying to do. I had to find him. My thoughts, if that’s what they were, raced. I didn’t know where I was, or where I was going, but the ground got colder and colder until my feet were numb with the unbearable cold as I continued on my path to Draconian. I trailed my hand over the uneven wall as I ran so I wouldn’t get lost in the dark; my hand started to throb. The closer I thought I was to Draconian, the more it throbbed until I couldn’t take the pain anymore. I gasped and clutched my hand; it was wet with blood. I ran on, “Draconian!” Without light or wall to guide me, with cold and pain, I lost my way. Was it just a dream? I awoke sobbing in Draconian’s arms on my bed at sunrise. My hands and feet were unblemished, but my hair was tangled. Was it just a dream? I did not know what had happened but the next night I dreamt again. This night, however, Draconian was waiting for me outside my room. I awoke in his arms as he shouted into the darkness that had clouded my dreams. The next morning Draconian said not a word to me but climbed to the upper towers and remained there for the rest of the day.
Late that night I woke on my own accord. Something was wrong, I knew; something was wrong and it wasn’t a dream this time. There was a hum rolling along in the darkness. Clouds were circling so fast around the castle that I became nauseous and almost fainted when I passed a window overlooking the overgrown courtyard. Something stopped me from fainting; something that made me wish I had fainted. There, in the upper tower, I saw a beast so terrible and so massive, that I felt my heart would shatter from the sheer weight of fear. The beast stared at me with its’ scaly horned wings folded around it. The most terrifying thing was the beautiful face looking back at me with piercing blue eyes and jet black hair. I screamed and ran towards the great entrance hall. There was a noise behind me; doors slammed. The darkness itself seemed to rise and chase me, getting closer and closer, panting chills down my spine.
More doors slammed down the corridor behind me. Where was Draconian? I screamed again as I felt an icy claw grasp my shoulder. More doors. “Draconian!” I shrieked as I finally made my way under the massive chandelier that hung, a brightly lit glasswork, in the entrance hall. The lights went out; my comfort was stolen. I looked around desperately, sobbing in the darkness.
“Draconian is gone, precious.”
The murmur came from behind me. I turned swiftly. There was no one there. That voice. “Draconian,” I wailed, pleading with the darkness. The lights flickered. Where was he?
“Elizabeth!”
Finally.
Darkness. A strange metallic smell wafted past me. It made me sick but I was too frightened to notice. I turned away from it, gagging and sobbing, “Draconian!”
“Elizabeth.” The lights flickered and I saw him running towards me. Darkness approached once more, diving into the light like a thick cloud. I called him again. He was there. The lights flickered; the darkness was pulling back. Then he was standing in front of me. “Elizabeth,” he murmured, holding me tightly. He was drenched in cold sweat. That smell. I pushed back quickly; a monstrous look crossed his face. I ran from him and stumbled over my gown. “Darling,” he began to approach me once more. The darkness accumulated behind him and I began to shake uncontrollably, trying to crawl backwards into the remaining light.
“What do you want from me? Leave this place. You are not welcome here,” I did not know what to say. I felt positive I was dealing with a demon. I began to pray. Complete darkness washed over the room around me, drenching me in the eerie mist of nothingness. A hollow laughter filled the hall. It did not echo, but traveled around me so quickly that it was everywhere at once, showing me there was no escape. Rain began to fall, pounding against the building. All the doors in the hall slammed open with a resounding roar and clouds began to pour in and swirl around me where I had fallen.
Terrified, I stood and looked bravely into the impending doom. “Now, Draco.” The words were not spoken, but I could feel them, hear them in my mind. The voice was great and terrible and made me ill.
“No!”
The lights flickered, and then hovered in the middle of the gloom. Draconian stood in the center of the room, surrounded by the racing black clouds. They circled him faster and faster and closer and closer; the light was gone. The voice returned, stronger and angrier, “It is too late, even now you can no longer overthrow your inner shadow.” I trembled and almost lost my footing at the power of the voice. A great shrieking cry echoed in the room, echoed in my mind, “NO!”
The light came on, the darkness raced around the hall in waiting; anticipating its next move. Draconian stood his ground in the middle of the room, his shoulders sagged weakly through his ripped white shirt. He looked at me, straight through my soul; nothing had changed. My relief was echoed in my features. I ran to him but he shook his head, “GO! Quickly, before it returns!”
It was too late. I slid to a halt and fell in his arms as the black mass descended upon us once more; this time we were together and I had his strength to rely on for comfort.
“You knew I would return. You know in your heart that your own evil prevails and I will win you over before the morning comes.”
The voice in my head echoed, causing agonizing pain every time I heard it. I fell and Draconian caught me. I thought I was the only affected by the voice until I fell against him. His knees were shaking so badly. His face was pale but his eyes were determined as he held my gaze.
“It is time.”
“No! I’ve changed my mind! I love my life! I love her!”
“But you will doubt. She may keep you safe from your other half, but only you can save you from yourself.”
I was so confused; so terrified. I felt tears falling onto my face. Draconian kept looking down at me, neither of us wanting to break away. I held his gaze for the longest time. The darkness lifted, the voice grew into a weak and fading whisper of a memory in the back of my mind. We stared into each other’s eyes; I was sure the darkness had passed. He blinked. The mass of black clouds swooped in with a roar. I was thrown from his arms as he was lifted into the air by the swirling gloom. He was crying, “No!” but the higher he was carried, the less forceful his cries became, the more softly he cried out. The churning mass continued for what seemed like hours and then, just as the stained glass windows of the hall lit up from the light pink dawn that was quickly spreading outside, the mass roared towards the ground. The dark clouds streamed by me. I thought I saw his face. The mass soared past me then roared through the halls and a resounding clash knocked me to the ground as the tower door, nine floors above me, was slammed closed.
I sat there on the cool surface of the hall until a handmaiden picked me up. No one had heard anything from the night before and the only sine was the bare entrance hall; the only remaining decoration was the crystal chandelier.
The castle began to bustle with life as it did every morning as the remaining housekeepers came. The pureness of my heart told me that Draconian was gone. I knew I had to leave, but I could not leave until I knew what had happened. Draconian was always slightly mysterious when it came to personal matters, but I could not think of a time when he could have noticeably hidden something from me. I went to sit in the library to have breakfast and to think. The black book; he had hidden that from me. What was that about? It had only been a week after the incident with the book when Draconian had started to withdraw into himself. Where would the book be now? Draconian’s tower was the obvious answer, but how was I going to get in with the unapproachable darkness in there. Just thinking about Draconian being such a beast was terrifying. I soon fell into an exhausted sleep in front of the fireplace and my miserable thoughts were left behind. “Sleep, precious, sleep.” It was dark; a terrible darkness was everywhere. I awoke; the fire had burned down to a warm orange-red glow. I drew comfort from it. Where was the darkness? Walking out to the window’s balcony I saw a figure swoop into the tree line in the distance. “Draconian.” It was like he was giving me a chance, like I was the last remaining decoration for his heart. The crystal chandelier that stood alone against the darkness. I knew what I had to do. I ran to the tower: the door was not even locked. I ran up the spiral stairway, the book lay on a table by the entrance. I grabbed it and fled. A loud bang let me know the beast had arrived. The shadows chased me down the stairway and through the halls but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t look back. An angry roar followed me as the castle gates slammed behind me; it knew the book was gone.

A haunting gong echoes from the dark towers that protrude from the deep purple night sky. The wind blows around Castle Draco as the clouds release their miasma of despair upon the town. A light glimmers in a high tower, seen by those townspeople brave enough to look. There is a powerful gust of wind that blows out all the lamps in the town and the doors and the windows are slammed and sealed shut so that they will not open even when many men gather to throw their weight against one. I think it’s Draconian’s warning that the beast is coming. The eerie bell fades in the distant winds and the town is left in total silence, except for a lone baby’s wail that calls out through the night. All around the town, people drop to their knees in terror, silently praying for God to revisit them once more.
I have been in this boarding house for a week. The beast has grown stronger with every passing day. The ancient book, with its mildew stained pages, says that the beast reflects the fear-filled inner struggles of the person that called upon the darkness. For Draconian, his doubt with his armies and his love for life were passion enough to serve the darkness and present Draconian with the beast to embody him. The darkness had even tried to rid Draconian of me, but it had failed and Draconian had saved me from losing my way in the dungeons. It seemed that Draconian had changed his mind the day of the last ritual, not knowing that the beast had already been released by the darkness to take his soul. The beast itself was of the darkness; feeding from the fear and life of others. The town is doomed; though no one has died yet, terror fills everyone.
It has taken me all week to read this; every time I reach a particularly dreadful description of the beast or how to kill it I would either faint or begin to cry.
I have to return soon. The boy lays open on my bed. I grab it and throw it in the small fireplace, then promptly call for my carriage and leave into the pouring rain.
Night has fallen. The rain falls harder. The farther we go, the harder and harder it falls, matching my now quite frantic heartbeat. Louder and harder still and then there is silence as the rain ceases and my lantern is doused. Before I can register what has happened, a great metallic stench engulfs me and drags me from the carriage, encasing me in such a heavy darkness that I am sure my screams go unnoticed. I faint.

I awake, alone, in the tower. Where is the beast? A door closes behind me, making me jump. I gather my courage and turn slowly, prepared for what I might see. Draconian; his white shirt in ruins across his chest and his chin unshaved. He gives me a look mixed with disgust and anguish. The darkness has folded itself like dark wings of death at his shoulders. The beast is toying Draconian in front of me. Knowing what I have to do, I fall to my knees. “Draconian,” I sob. He appears beside me and folds me in his arms, the darkness tight at his back. I feel the comfort of his arms one last time, then draw the dagger from my bodice and strike.
The darkness is ready. Instantly, the beast claws me down. I raise the dagger to the beast. Its’ mass of evil is closing in around me, and then just when I think darkness must win, a crystal blue light fills the air and I can breathe once more. Have I won? I open my eyes as I feel something soft squeeze my hand. The darkness has dissipated, leaving the tower bright as light filters in the blue windows. Draconian is bending over me, cradling my head in his lap. I try to say something, but no words come. His tears fall on my face as I smile and close my eyes; breathing in the cool light that lifts me forever away from the darkness. As his last hope, the chandelier to his heart, I had to allow Draconian to witness the true evil of the beast on the one he loved most: me. Then, his doubts would forever be erased by the agony and rage against the beast. It was the only theory from the book that I could stand to look at or do willingly and it worked. My sacrifice has not been in vain for I have proved my love for Draconian, forever expelling the darkness from his soul. My love has set him free.